


The Ocean in His Gaze

by hanh410, velvetcadence



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Charles-centric, Deities, Erik is a Shark, Facials, Fingerfucking, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Smitten Erik, Somnophilia, Tattoos, Tribal-themed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanh410/pseuds/hanh410, https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcadence/pseuds/velvetcadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is danger in the water. Food is growing scarce, and those who dare to dive under the ocean’s surface rarely come back. To keep his people alive, Charles offers himself to the deity that protects the waters surrounding them, hoping that it will appease whatever wrath the spirits have unleashed upon them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special mention to Kage for enabling us with [this picture](http://media.tumblr.com/bfa1578c7e3f1064b6b0b29bddb00e22/tumblr_inline_mptqyky0081qz4rgp.png). To Moncube for providing [pornspiration](http://media.tumblr.com/e23ef2820f2ee93bcba45b4c70442f5f/tumblr_inline_mpxn3v6Qng1qz4rgp.jpg). And of course, to everyone else at chat who suggested synonyms for the word ‘cock’ ;) you know who you are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and off you go, bye bye virgin sacrifice

Tonight he was to be wedded to the deity of the waters that surrounded their land. For the tribe this meant continued protection and abundance. For Charles, it meant submission, body and soul to the unknown, to place his heart in the intangible and the dangerous.

A thick finger probed him gently, spreading oil all along his puckered entrance. Charles inhaled sharply when the healer behind him tugged his thighs wider apart, and another pair of hands spread his cheeks to expose the most vulnerable part of him. As careful as they were, Charles couldn’t help making small, pained sounds as they fit the blunt head of the ceremonial plug in with a pop. It slid in easily with attentive patience, stretching the rim of his hole just before it became uncomfortable. The oil they’d coated his insides tingled sweetly, adding to the discomfort simmering in his veins. He'd been forced to chew an alleviative root hours before. It was for the best, he supposed. The marital beds of the gods should not be taken lightly.

He shivered when they pushed him up to stand. The shadows formed by the torches’ light danced to the pulsating beat outside the tent, a steady hypnotic drumming. It was the bonding march. On any other day, it would have been a joyous sound. Now it was simply heated and heavy. When they pulled the drape open, there was no cheering, only expectant murmurs.

Charles had no kin amongst this crowd, no special place in the hearts of the villagers, only the very same healers who had poked, prodded and prepared him to flank his side as they met the chief. The man’s frown was stern as he placed his hands on Charles’ freshly-washed hair, careful not to dislodge the flowers twisted into it. Still, his eyes were kind as he intoned his blessing.

“May you live well,” The chief bade.

“May you live well,” The tribe echoed, placing their hands above his head. He passed their blessing on the way to the single canoe tied to the shore, leaving his footwear in the sand. He would meet his new husband barefooted and exposed, save for the flowers in his hair and his diaphanous blue robe. The new tattoos on his chest stung, reminding him of his duty. At the last step,  he couldn’t help turning his head to where his tribe watched him with heavy gazes.

Perhaps it was the three days and three nights of fasting, and the twice-daily cleansing in the sacred river, but he felt a certain lightness upon knowing that his tribe would benefit by whatever fate were to befall him. “May you live well,” he told them, settling himself on the canoe decorated beautifully with flowers. It was hewn with care, though Charles knew it was not he the villagers were thinking of when they made it. The drums never stopped their rhythmic beating, just as the tribespeople never lifted their gaze from him until he left their sights.

There were no oars to row with, so Charles calmed himself into waiting, even as the plug inside him jolted with every lazy undulation of the waves. Every time the boat stirred, his wooden seat pushed against the end of the plug, testing his stability. The night was clear, and the moon was bright like a watchful eye. He silently wished that the deity was watching, that it would be pleased and not lead his boat astray with rough winds.

 

It was a slow journey, but at last the deity’s island finally came to view. The boat led itself inside a cave where the water glowed a transfixing blue and its sleek walls reflected that light. There seemed to be thousands of little stars perched upon the ceiling, twinkling. Charles stared, agog, as he tried to grasp that he was in another world entirely. When he reached out to flick his fingers across the surface of the water, the ripples he created glowed.

He gasped, and the sound echoed in the vast space. The boat came to a stop and Charles alighted, the sand smooth under his feet where it gave way to the rock. With each step he made, his cloak dragged heavily as it had absorbed water at the hem.

“Hello?” he called out. When no answer was forthcoming, he realized he was alone. Completely and utterly alone. He began to despair. If there was no one to greet him here, then he had failed his tribe. Hazy with hunger and fear, he fell to his knees and bent his head, praying very hard that the deity would see him as a worthy offering.

“Look up here, beautiful one. Let me see your eyes.” A voice said kindly as a gentle hand tilted his chin up. Charles’ mouth fell open when the deity presented himself before him, his sharp features softened by the ethereal lighting inside the cave. He could scarcely tear his eyes away from the deity’s face; it was so difficult to fathom such beauty. Charles licked his lips, a nervous habit. The deity’s eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. “You have the ocean in your gaze. I am well-pleased.”

Charles couldn’t hold back a tear of relief as he kissed the insides of the deity’s palms, noting the patterns on his forearms. In its simplistic details therein laid a story, of a people who suffered, and a great power who took pity on them, who took within his jaws the evil that tormented them. In exchange for his protection they gave him their oath and took the care of his domain to their hands. Charles had the same such pattern embedded to his skin, a thick arch just under his collarbones. The skin there was recently healed, still sensitive to the touch.

“I pledge to you my life, in this world and the next.” Words were transient, but the memory of a thumb rubbing the junction of his neck and shoulder was forever burned into him. In that moment, he was set aflame. Once again he was made aware of the thick instrument stretching his entrance, keeping him prepared to be taken and to consummate the bond. The scent of arousal stained the air, and it grew stronger as the deity stepped closer and took command of him, one hand gripping him by his hair, the other leading his erection into Charles’ mouth.

Charles breathed, mouth soft as the tip rubbed itself against his lower lip. When he darted his tongue out to taste the first trickle of fluid beading at the tip, it tasted of brine. He knew what was expected of him, having seen it done season after season at the fertility festival. He’d imagined himself sucking on his bonded with all the love and attention the other couples at the festival had given each other. Now that he was here, his lips had somehow become clumsy and his tongue like a stone in his mouth. Still, he was overcome with desire, and his hands came up to grip the deity’s hips for support. He received no reprimand for it, and it made it easier for him to accommodate the girth stretching his lips.

Charles ached in his hole and in his mouth, choking when the deity thrust too far and too hard. And yet despite the roughness, he could not protest it, not when his body was electrified and aroused for this man who was not a man, but something far greater than that. The deity’s breaths grew shallow, and when he pulled Charles back to fist his own desire, Charles surprised himself with the moan that erupted from his lips. The deity spilled his seed on Charles’ tongue and on his face, which he wiped clean with his fingers and fed to him. Charles swallowed each drop obediently, his insides clenching around the plug in reflected desire.

When he stood, his robe was in disarray and half-falling off him. His jaw ached, and he was weak with arousal, weaker still when the deity gathered him into his arms and his strong scent washed over Charles.

“Very good, Charles.” the deity said, and Charles was overwhelmed when he heard his name. His eyes blurred with tears in confused pleasure and lust. He felt weak, his head was dizzy and spinning, and the pleasure-pain between his legs would not cease. He wanted to beg, to ask for more, but he did not know how to voice that need, and he didn't even know what it was exactly that his body craved. The cave was illuminated, but dimly so, and without most of his sight every sense set him off, every breath and every touch upon his skin was a step closer to ecstasy. When he felt strong hands start to caress the planes and curves of his body, however, he felt treasured. The caresses did nothing to help the need in his loins, but they managed to sooth his anxious soul. The next thing Charles knew, the deity was carrying him in his arms.

 _He’s going to claim me_ , Charles thought dizzily as he looked up. The deity, _his_  bonded, had very pale eyes. Coupled with the ethereal glow from the cave, the color was enchanting. His gaze was sharp, but his smile was so gentle it made Charles’ heart sing.

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a breathy moan. Very gently, he was laid down on soft bedding, before the body above him pressed down skin to skin from chest to toe. He then gave Charles a soft peck on his lips, a playful blessing.

“You must call me by name.” Another peck, another heated breath into his ear that made his whole body shudder. “My name is Erik.” He was kissed again, and it was a stronger, more passionate kiss this time. It was not simply a touch but an offering as well as an evasion. For the third time that night, Charles prayed; however, this time it was for his own burning desire to be fulfilled. Erik’s strong hands were back again on his body, tugging his clothing down bit by bit while they lingered here and there, enjoying the smooth skin underneath.

He broke the kiss, leaving Charles breathing heavily, every inhale and exhale pushing their chests together. He wondered if the deity was displeased but those lips caught his attention again, this time at his jawline, his neck, down to his collarbone and the tattoos embedded underneath them. His panting became harsher as that hot, wet mouth closed around a sensitive nub. One hand snuck down to stroke at the soft skin of his inner thigh, before grasping the hem of his robe and pulling it off of him. There was nothing else to do but moan and surrender himself to the attentions of his new husband. Charles whimpered, shuddering as a wicked tongue trailed down to his abdomen and dipped into his navel.

The action shocked him into lucidity. He stiffened, pushing at the deity’s shoulder, who simply looked at him and placed a warm palm on the soft plane of Charles’ abdomen.

“I claim you now, in this life and the next.” Erik reminded with a steadiness that calmed Charles immediately, naturally.

“Of course. Yes. I.” Charles licked his lips and lay back down, baring his neck. “Yes. Please.”

The deity bent his head back down and kissed him there, at that intimate, sacred place, before his tongue darted out to prod Charles again and make him squirm. Eventually he grew lax from the lapping, when without warning a hand moved to spread his legs. The motion was slow but it nudged him awake from his dazzled state. Ignoring Charles’ stiff arousal, Erik’s fingers went in to caress the end of the plug, making Charles’ thighs twitch like he was struck by lightning. Charles’ fist clenched at the moss beneath him, neck straining with the feeling of the plug slowly leaving his body. He uttered a painful cry and a tear trickled down his cheek when the head finally popped out, followed by a thick streak of oil. He didn’t know what hurt more: the teasing kisses and touches that only inflamed his desire, or the bizarre emptiness in him that needed to be filled immediately.

“Please...” He moaned, his voice broken with sobs. Erik only returned his plea with an assuring smile. He reached out a hand to wipe the tears away, then went back to nuzzling at Charles’ stomach. His fingers gently nudged at the throbbing hole between Charles’ legs, pulling a heady groan from his throat.

"Your body archs beautifully," Erik whispered heatedly, even as Charles shook visibly with strain when three fingers slid in one after the other. When the deity hooked his fingers upwards, Charles gasped, unable to control himself any longer. He came, white streaks scattering all over his own abdomen and the deity’s chest. Lost in his climax, his eyelids grew heavy and he submitted to his exhaustion, leaving Erik to use his body as he wished.

 

The next time he came to, there was a rolling, insistent pleasure growing at the base of his spine. A strange heat had spread over his body. Charles blinked awake, noticing Erik's handsome face inches from his own. The deity ducked down and claimed Charles’ lips, tracing his tongue over the tip and leaving him breathless with want. Erik’s arms were braced on either side of Charles’ head, the muscles and the sinews a poetry along with the tattoos on his arms. Charles bucked, wanton and begging in breathless gasps, clenching around the hot erection thrusting powerfully in him. His legs twined around the deity’s instinctively, riding his pleasure and shocked at the intensity of it, of the way his spine arched automatically into the lips mouthing at his bonding tattoos. The pleasure crested at the scrape of teeth at his collar and he was lost, shattered to pieces and rebuilt anew.

Erik groaned above him, and his thrusts increased in rapidity until he was all but plowing into Charles. “Will you accept my power?” The deity asked, lifting one of Charles’ thighs until his forearm was curled around it, spreading him wider, flexing into him deeper. “Will you?”

“Yes, yes, please!” Charles cried out, and Erik thrust one last time before Charles lost consciousness once more.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shark Attack: Honeymoon Edition

The water this morning resembled the shade of Charles’ eyes. Erik had known precious stones like sapphires could be used to compare a lover’s gaze, but he realized that it was a crude comparison. Gemstones, no matter how precious, lacked the warmth and vitality of Charles’ eyes. Instead, Erik likened his gaze to the deep ocean: alluring and impassioned; full of hidden depths.

Beneath the solemn surface of the morning, Erik’s subjects were beginning to wake. The life of a sea creature was a wondrous one, filled with color and vibrancy, and the ocean was a community that continuously prospered.

While his beloved slept, Erik had decided to greet his people and welcome the day with them. Schools of merfolk and fish made way as their king swam by, humble and respectful, though their joy for him was apparent on their faces. Last night saw the making of a blessed union, and there was not a doubt that his happiness meant very much to them.

Despite the court’s chatter, Erik found his attention lacking and his mind kept wandering back to the dim-lighted cave. He was content. His beautiful mate, who had come to him pure and unsullied had taken his welcome and blessing with dignity and grace. Charles complied beautifully, and the deity had never been so aware of how strong the mortal actually was in his obedience.

The seaweeds parted as he neared them, granting him entrance into the cave and to his beloved. He swam until the water was too shallow to contain his body, and when he emerged, he took to his human guise, slick and naked. It was a body he had not chosen, but a body that simply came to be. In human terms, he knew he was formidable, gifted with a broad chest and powerful limbs that could grapple with ten men and win easily. His form was handsomely framed in the build as well as the face, and though he could care less about how he looked, he was pleased with himself when Charles couldn’t even tear his eyes away from _this_ body. His new husband was an exquisite creature himself. Erik wanted him for his body and his mind, though what he wanted most from Charles was his heart.

As he approached the heart of his island, he felt the core of him thrum, for there lay the most beautiful of his offerings, sound asleep and innocent of his comings and goings. Charles’ chest was steady with the deep breathing of good sleep, and his eyelashes cast dim shadows upon his cheeks. He curled up beneath the soft cloth draped over his body, hands tucked under his chin. Erik could immediately tell that Charles was already attuned to his power, body stirring when the deity approached. Erik watched him wake with the warmth of something kindling in his chest.

There was a heavy sense of lethargy settling deep into Charles’ bones when he awoke. His cheek rested upon something soft and damp, and when he clenched his fingers, he realized that they were shaking. There was a drumming in his heart that wasn’t quite natural, and it resonated throughout his limbs. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep again.

A warm hand closed around his arm and stroked down to the crook of his elbow. Charles made a soft noise of surprise and shifted away, only to have an arm capture his waist and drag him back to the curve of another body. He stilled, not daring to breathe when the hand settled itself on his belly, warming and comforting him. After just one night, the gesture had started to become familiar. Charles settled, his muscles losing their stiffness as he gradually became aware of the heart beating behind him.

When he looked up, the curious starlight was glowing brightly above him. They were not embedded onto the ceiling as he’d previously thought. Rather they were strung up by very thin threads. Before he could contemplate this even further, there were fingers on his jaw, turning his view so that Erik’s face eclipsed it as he kissed the corner of his mouth. Charles’ lips parted, and when Erik slipped his tongue in, the deity tasted like the sea that he protected.

Charles gave himself to it despite his body’s tired trembling. It was easy to do, when Erik’s strong arms enclosed upon him and buoyed him upwards, giving and taking with the same ease the tide took to the shore. Erik’s skin was warm and slick, and when the god slipped his hand between Charles’ legs, Charles crooked his knee and let his touch sink in.

The insides of his thighs were sensitive, so when Erik stroked there, Charles couldn’t help a breathy gasp.

“Yes?” Erik whispered, voice low rough from desire. Charles couldn’t speak; he nodded against the lips near his temple.

Erik touched him, and Charles’ mind blurred a little at the edges. There was only the heat of Erik’s hand and the damp of the moss, the frantic beating of Erik’s heart against his shoulder. Charles rocked into the grip and against the length of Erik’s lust, wondering if he’d be taken again just like this, spread open and weak against this carnal hunger.

Erik pushed into him carefully, and assisted by the water still drying on his skin and the remnants of last night’s coupling, he managed to bottom out in one thrust. He flexed gently, sucking a bruise on Charles’ shoulder, pinning him with the stinging sensation. Charles had lost control of his voice, every touch and every jolt translated into a breathy groan or a rough gasp that resonated within the cave.

The more impassioned the deity grew, the louder Charles got, until he was firmly turning the human on hands and knees. He pushed Charles’ shoulders down and planted his hand by the side of Charles’ bowed head, the other one steadying and perfecting the arch of his back until his hips were raised in abeyance. He entered again and Charles couldn’t stifle his shout. Unlike before, where the ache pervaded from the rim of the entrance and the stretch of his insides, now there was a white hot pleasure burning in his belly perfectly in tune with every deep thrust. Charles was convinced that he would only grow mad with desire as the pace went faster. When his arousal crested and his knees grew weak, Erik followed him down as he lay flat on the moss bed.

He was covered completely by Erik, touching skin to skin and slicked by sweat. If he had struggled to catch his breath then, it was even harder now, with his bonded weighing him down and rocking each breath out of him. Now Charles only felt used and achy, still desirous but more exhausted than not. He endured the rough handling and the crush of Erik’s body against his by sheer will, and when Erik spilled his seed, Charles moaned in relief.

Charles’ blood felt thick. Even his thoughts held a viscous quality to them, registering only the sensation of Erik gathering him in his arms and pressing his lips to Charles’ slack mouth. He felt lighter afterwards, as if Erik had sucked the pain and the sudden sensation that made his skin feel too tight for even himself. Charles smiled despite himself, because he’d heard that this great god of legends old was a fierce warrior, and yet here he was touching Charles like he was precious and breakable.

Erik pressed a thumb against Charles’ smile and let him drift off into the crook of his arm, their bodies pressed together.

 

Afterwards, when Charles began to feel restless and sticky, the god helped him up on his feet. Walking was difficult with Charles’ trembling limbs. They didn’t go back the way he came in, Charles supposed, but continued on to the opposite path. Even with the deity’s hand to guide him, Charles couldn’t help stumbling, feeling increasingly embarrassed and awkward as he felt the slick of the come coursing down his thigh.

The robe from last night was draped over him now, more from his sense of propriety than any real need. It was cool in the cave, but not overly so. In any case, the touch of Erik’s skin on his was enough to keep him burning from the inside out.

They emerged into the bright sunlight.The sun was already high up in the sky, and it struck Charles that this was the latest that he had ever woken up. Back at the village, he rose with the sun and settled in by the time it sank over the horizon. Today’s exhaustion was justly warranted, however. Twice had he been taken the night before and once again this morning. He wondered if this would be the norm for them from this day on. If it were, then he believed he would come to like it very much.

Charles saw that the island was lush with greenery, filled with all kinds of fruits and flowers, and the air was permeated with the scent of his favorite bloom. The birds lent to the cacophony of noises their song, and the cicadas cheered. _The land is alive!_ Charles thought with wonder, gazing back at Erik, whose features were arranged in tenderness.

“Come, Charles,” Erik said, taking his arm and leading him deeper into the island. When they passed by a tree with fruit heavy on the bough, Charles slowed and became aware of the emptiness of his belly. Without thinking, he reached for a fruit on a low-hanging branch, but Erik was there already plucking it.

“Oh! Er, thank you.”

Erik shook his head disapprovingly. “You must take care to eat only the food that I give you, Charles. Never take what is not offered.” Charles felt his cheeks flush with shame and shyly took the proffered gift. He peeled the flesh, savoring the sweetness that burst in his mouth. Erik plucked one for himself as well. They ambled along the way, hands slightly sticky with juice.

 

Charles heard the waterfall before he saw it. The sight was a beautiful thing to behold, the water looked clear and blue. Nearby he could see a little plant standing attentively by, its flowers in full bloom. He turned to the deity and smiled, “Erik, it’s lovely.”

The deity nodded, though it seemed to Charles as if he didn’t truly comprehend his wonder. Nevertheless, Charles went to the flowers and bent to pluck them, finding the petals fleshy and turgid with sticky juice. It was the herb his tribe used to wash their hair, so he gathered the biggest and roundest  he could find for the both of them. It was something he got the village children to help him with when they bathed together at the river.

When Charles looked up, he almost dropped what he was holding. Erik was standing in the middle of the sunshine, erect with desire, watching him with a focused gaze. Charles could feel his own arousal stir at that one look. With awkward limbs, he managed to disrobe himself, carelessly dropping it behind him.

The water was cool and refreshing and the pebbles below were smooth to his feet, but these were all details he discarded as soon as Erik enfolded him into his arms. Charles eagerly surged up into the kiss, feeling the stiff flesh of Erik’s arousal press against his belly. He melted into the heat of Erik’s embrace, feeling himself calm when Erik slowed the kiss to guide him deeper into the pool. When they neared the waterfall, Charles remembered the flowers in his hands, now sticky and crushed.

He laughed. He couldn’t help it, but there was a bubbling in his chest that couldn’t wait to pour out. There was something about being held in someone’s arms and trusting them to keep him buoyed up in the water that made him positively giddy. Lost in Erik’s kiss, Charles had forgotten the reason they came to the water in the first place, and the answer lay sticky in his hand.

The crushed petals fell into the water, leaving a trail of sticky paste between his fingers. Charles lathered the fragrant liquid and spread it on Erik’s wet hair, winding his fingers through the longish strands. Erik let him massage his scalp and did not protest when Charles’ fingers traveled down to his neck and shoulders. The deity smiled and closed his eyes, practically preening at the personal worship. Charles let his eyes and fingers travel down, taking in the wide, sturdy chest and the long, lean line of his torso. Curiously, there was no dip of a navel on his abdomen, a physical sign if any that he was born of the sea and not of any mother.

He let his soapy hands swipe across Erik’s back, half-tempted to brazenly grab handfuls of his rump. They were moving together indulgently, hips circling, easy with the water around them. Erik watched him with eyes the color of the sea before a storm.

Throughout his life at the village, Charles had witnessed many of its fertility festivals. Only bonded pairs could participate, however, and due to Charles’ status as a healer, he was not allowed to taint his energy with any man or woman. He was prepared to live his life as he had thus far: his hut at the edge of the village, slightly secluded, his nature both honored and feared.

Of intimacies he had no experience, so it was completely a turnaround to suddenly have an inexhaustible lover. The deity was as proud and as handsome as Charles had thought him to be, and just as virile and hot-blooded. He caught Charles’ lips and the energy between them hummed excitedly. Charles rolled his hips, eager for more. They panted into each other’s mouths as Erik supported his weight fully in his arms and walked to shallower waters.

Charles’ shout rent the air when the deity breached him, hips and arms working in tandem to thrust into him repeatedly. At this angle, it seemed like each flex discovered some secret part of him that sent stars to burst behind his eyelids. Charles could only cling and moan in abandon, his teeth digging into the meat of Erik’s shoulder with every jolt.

The increasing pace turned the pleasure to blinding ecstasy. Erik shuddered as he spilled, and the blessing of seed made Charles give a helpless groan, his heart about to give way with the sudden influx of power coursing through his body.

 

“You must be cleaned too,” Erik murmured a little later. Charles spread the lather on his own hair, but it was Erik who cleaned him of sweat and salt, claiming and owning him in firm caresses. The deity coaxed him to close his eyes when he cupped water in his hands. It was an anointment, and Charles felt wholly clean when it was done, scrubbed free from his past. Erik blessed him with kisses, lips scattering almost playful pecks, fingers drumming against his skin.  

The kisses went down to his chest, softening at the tattoos under his collarbones. They paused at his nipples, drawing a loud moan from him. He was flushed rosy and sensitive to touch, but Erik didn’t linger long, trailing down, sucking at the skin at the base of where his ribs fused together.

He cupped Charles’ belly, right over his navel. It was the center of his energy, so to touch there was an intimate gesture. The tribe believed that the navel was sacred because it was where mother and child were connected while she nurtured his spirit in her body. At a bonding ceremony, the pair would place their hands on each other’s energy centers and swear fidelity. What Erik had done at their ceremony simply hadn’t been that; he had bonded Charles to him completely, body and spirit. Despite knowing that he’d cut all ties to the world he’d known, it was difficult to find regret within himself.

Charles had never felt such freedom.

 

They emerged when the water started to wrinkle Charles’ hands and let it dry on their backs. They walked naked, and with one hand in Erik’s, Charles felt invulnerable despite the lack of clothing. Erik was leading him to a different route, and Charles took the time to look his fill, sometimes stopping to smell a flower in full bloom, admiring the bizarre shape of a tree or pointing to the birds that were calling for mates.

Erik was patient with him, even with the glacial pace. Gods had to be patient, Charles supposed. They had nothing but time.

“Where are we going?” He asked once the excitement faded and he had gained enough sense to ask.

“Home.”

“Oh. Do you not live in the cave?”

“Sometimes,” Erik said. He would not say more, and Charles was too wary to push. Erik instructed him to look ahead, beyond the trees. Charles gasped.

It was a hut unlike the ones that his tribe built. Charles had inherited an identical hut from his adoptive mother, and though it was small, it was perfectly homey for two people. The closer they got, the more Charles was stunned to see that it was a perfect replica of his mother’s hut, from the exact shape and height to the notches in the wood.

“How…?” He began to ask, but Erik only led him inside. It was as if he was truly back home, the matting of the floor the same, the pot in its lonely corner, the beads hanging from where his mother dispelled the spirits come wandering their way.

The only true difference was the arrangement of food spread out on the low dining table at the center of the room, coincidentally all of Charles’ favorite dishes.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that save for the fruit, he hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Erik sat himself on one side of the mat, looking at-home in Charles’ humble abode despite his regal presence.

“Get the rice,” he instructed, and Charles fetched the pot from where it was sitting, somehow unsurprised to find that it was already filled with food. When he sat down, he didn’t know where to begin. There was milkfish from the river, and fresh seaweed mixed in with sour wine. Small, salted fish were laid out, filling the hut with a strong fragrance. A simple stew made from fresh vegetables, the steam rising into the air. Yellow fruit, once again, just on the verge of ripeness, cut into strips and served with fermented sauce.

It was simple fare, but it was hearty fare, something his mother would have prepared for him each year on his birthday. He missed her with a visceral longing.

“Eat, beloved,” Erik smiled, as though endeared by Charles’ sudden bout of emotion. Charles sniffled and accepted the bowl handed to him, smiling back. Between the two of them, they had managed to eat most of the food, and what was left was kept in the pot for morning.

They washed their hands outside and Charles led Erik back in with a touch, drawing aside the cloth that sectioned the rest of the hut from the sleeping quarters. Charles’ bed had been dressed with new blankets, finely woven cloth a new husband would have greeted him with at their bonding ceremony. Erik was not bound by mortal law, so Charles was touched beyond measure.

He drew Erik in for a kiss, wanting with all his heart only to please him.

“You do please me, Charles,” he assured warmly. They made love on the new bedding, and afterwards Erik tucked him into the curve of his body, his palm hot against Charles’ front.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Erik's tattoos](http://www.cooltribaltattoo.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/men-tribal-forearm-tattoo.jpg)   
>  [Erik's cave](http://sun-surfer.com/photos/2013/05/Waitomo-Glow-Worm-Caves-New-Zealand.jpg)


End file.
